


Brother Mine

by Morgana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, M/M, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-27 01:39:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16692952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: With his brother in jail, Thor is sent as Asgard's representative to a peace summit. While he's there, he decides to talk to the king of Jotunheim about the marks on the back of his neck. What he uncovers will change both his and his brother's lives, and perhaps alter the fate of the entire universe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... this is a gift for [Via](http://meganedoodledog.tumblr.com/), who won me in the Marvel Trumps Hate auction. She wanted to see ThunderFrost, with soulmarks, and she gave me permission to be juuuust as angsty as I wanted to be (a mistake I'm sure she'll never make again...)

“His Majesty will see you now.”

Thor nodded at the guard and followed him into the reception room, then waited until the door had closed behind him before he spoke. “My thanks for seeing me, Your Majesty. I know that my request was... unusual.”

“Unusual, indeed,” was the answer from the darkness before a large figure leaned out of it and glowered at him. “And you can understand why I might have turned it down... given that the last time a son of Odin asked to see a king of Jotunheim alone, it was to kill him.”

 _Damn you, Loki_. Thor bowed his head and counted to ten. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I assure you, my brother is paying for his crimes against Jotunheim.”

“But he pays for them on Asgard, as an Asgardian,” Helblindi pointed out. Before Thor could ask what Helblindi would suggest instead, the Jotun king shook his head. “That is a matter for a future summit, however. What service would the crown prince of Asgard ask of Jotunheim?”

It was now or never. Thor took a shaky breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to ask. “Your Majesty, I must beg a great favor of you, but before I do... I need your solemn word that you will tell no one of what you are about to see, that none will ever learn any of this from you.”

The king leaned back in his chair until only his eyes could be seen, glowing faintly red in the shadows. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll leave here with no hard feelings, and we’ll just agree to forget that we ever had this little meeting,” Thor said, trying to keep his tone light and friendly despite the fact that just thinking about that possibility made his chest tighten.

Helblindi was silent for a moment before he said, “Very well. By the casket which my people have sworn to see returned to us, none shall learn from me of anything that transpires here.”

“I have to ask you about something very... intimate,” Thor started, feeling his cheeks and ears heat with the words.

“Little Ás, if you’re about to ask me share your bed,” the king began with a laugh, and Thor hurried to correct him.

“It’s about my soulmark,” he blurted out. “I don’t - I can’t read it. Nobody on Asgard or Vanaheim can.” He looked at the king, who had gone completely still and silent. “But I believe that you can.”

Red eyes glinted at him as Helblindi shifted, leaning forward once more. “And why do you think that?”

Thor closed his eyes, trying to think about how his mother would counsel him to say this. “When we were on Jotunheim... I noticed others there that had... marks that looked a little like mine. And I thought that perhaps whatever my mark says... it might be written in Jotun script.”

“You realize that even if it is, your soulmark might well lead you to nothing but pain,” Helblindi said coolly, and in his voice, Thor could hear an echo of Loki’s sharp, silky tones. “Your brother slaughtered many of us, so your mate may be dead, and those that are left are not likely to look kindly on an Asgardian.”

“I know,” he whispered. It had been the first thing he’d thought of when he’d realized that the markings were probably Jotun, but he had to know. For so many years, Thor had been sure that he either had no markmate, that his mark would lead him nowhere, and now that he had a possibility, he had to find out, even if he was hated for nothing more than being Asgardian. It would be fitting, he supposed, given how many years he’d spent in blind, unthinking hatred. Years that could have been spent nurturing alliances and discovering his markmate. “Please. I just... I need to know.”

“Such pretty words from a son of Odin. ‘Please.’” Helblindi sighed. “Show me your mark, then, boy.”

Reaching up, Thor parted his hair and pulled it forward over his shoulders. _“A warrior’s hair should always cover his neck”_ , his mother had always told him. He’d never questioned her, not until Loki had shorn Sif’s hair and Thor wanted to cut his own with her. His mother forbade it and it was then that she’d told him the secret about the markings on the back of his neck and used her mirror to show him the soulmark that no scholar had been able to read. _“Never tell anyone of its existence or show it to another living soul,”_ she’d ordered, and until now, he’d obeyed.

He heard Helblindi draw in a sharp breath as his neck was exposed, then saw a sudden movement as he rose. Thor sank to his knees, both to give the king his due reverence and to offer him a better look at the mark, forcing himself to keep still as Helblindi walked around behind him. He wasn’t certain if this was a test, a way to see if he was willing to trust a Jotun at his back, but he knew that if he moved now, he’d never find out what the mark said.

Finally, Helblindi walked back around to take a seat in his chair once more, and Thor raised his head. “Can you read it?”’

“I can.” But instead of telling him what it said, Helblindi gestured for him to cover his mark again. “But are you certain you wish to know? Asgardian ways are not ours, and our marks reflect that. Bear in mind, boy, this is not something that can be unlearned. It will require you hearing a number of truths that you may not ready for, things that I’m sure your father would rather stay hidden.”

Two years ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it; he would have demanded to know the name, but then, two years ago, he hadn’t known just how terrible knowledge could be. Or how it could change your whole world. But if Loki could demand that their father acknowledge the truth of his heritage when he’d been brought before the throne for his crimes, then Thor could do no less than face the truth of his mark. “There has been enough prevarication in my life, Your Majesty. In this, at least, I would have the truth, however difficult it may be. Please... what does it say?”

There was a long pause, and then the king sighed and said, not unkindly, “It says, ‘Brother’.”


	2. Chapter 2

“The prince would like to see you.”

Loki didn’t bother to look up from the book he wasn’t reading. “Since I remain as yet unenslaved, he can walk himself down here to my prison cell,” he replied. “I find myself disinclined to leave such comfortable quarters at the present - even if the Allfather would allow it.”

He hid a smile as the two guards that had been sent to collect him exchanged looks. It had to be an uncomfortable position to be in, caught between the crown prince and the disgraced prisoner, knowing that refusing the direct order of the first could well affect your entire career going forward, while being unable to treat the second like a true prisoner since he was _technically_  still a prince as well. And unless or until Odin chose to revoke his status, Loki intended to make full use of that position.

Turning a page, he stared unseeing at it for a while, then raised his head and regarded the guards as though he were only just remembering their presence. “Are you still here? I’d have thought you wouldn’t want to keep Thor waiting for my answer.”

They muttered a courtesy good-bye, sketched the briefest of insulting bows, and hurried away. Loki picked up a pear and took a bite, then went back to pretending to read, certain it wouldn’t take long before Thor himself showed up to give him whatever lecture he had planned for him.

Except that an hour slipped by and Thor didn’t come. Instead, a servant appeared with a basin of hot water, a fresh change of clothes, and a screen to wash behind. Two hours later, another delivered a tray of flaky, buttery pastries, still soft and warm from the oven, along with a selection of freshly sliced fruit. Loki wasn’t quite sure just what game Thor was playing at, but he ate the treats willingly enough while he waited to see what came next.

The days to follow brought a small library’s worth of books, enough pillows to keep a whole harem in comfort, and several furs that Loki knew had come from Thor’s own bed. It seemed Thor had ransacked the entire palace to ensure that Loki wanted for nothing. All of them accompanied, of course, by Thor’s requests for his presence. Those were easy enough to refuse, even as the gifts grew increasingly difficult to accept. But the worst was yet to come.

Shortly after a dinner that must have come straight from the high table above, a basket was delivered. Inside, a coal-black wolf pup lay nestled between two custom made leather gauntlets. Around his neck, a green and gold braided cloth collar had a note that read, in Thor’s surprisingly elegant hand, His name is Fenris. _He will be your loyal companion and protector if you allow it - not that you need a protector. But it’s nice to have one sometimes, isn’t it, Loki? I miss you. Thor_

“Idiot,” Loki whispered roughly around the lump in his throat. As if he wouldn’t have known who would give him the one pet he’d always longed for. He reached out with one finger, lightly stroking over the soft fur between the pup’s eyes. Fenris stirred, blinked sleepily at him, then yawned, showing off impossibly tiny needle-sharp teeth, then turned onto his side and went back to sleep. “I really shouldn’t accept you,” Loki told him, although he already knew he wasn’t going to send him back. He wasn’t going to send any of it back, even if he should. He just wasn’t strong enough to deny himself these tiny bits of comfort, especially when he knew that Thor’s love could easily turn to hate in an instant if Loki were ever just the tiniest bit careless.

Golden princes of Asgard didn’t mate with monsters, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Two months. It had been two months since he’d returned from the summit, and Thor was becoming convinced that Loki had somehow learned about his mark and decided to use the knowledge to drive him mad. Every morning, Thor sent a message to Loki to ask to see him, and every morning, Loki refused to come to him. Every morning, he said that Thor was free to visit him in his prison cell, but Thor just couldn’t tell him about the mark and the things he’d learned from the Jotun king down there. So every day, he sent hot water, fresh clothes, pastries, fruit, sweets, and other things that he knew Loki loved but would never bring himself to ask for, little luxuries that might make his imprisonment a little more bearable. And every day, he grew just a little bit more desperate and a little bit more despairing that he would be every be able to find a way to set this right.

It had seemed so perfect at first, so right that his soulmark would belong to Loki, who had held Thor’s heart in his hands so long as they’d known each other. Who else but Loki could truly understand him, from teasing him out of his foul moods to meeting his wildest berserker rages unafraid? It had been Loki who saw the truth of the matter several years ago, that Thor had been unready to rule, spoiled and headstrong, and it had been Loki who brought it to their father’s attention. Thor wondered, not for the first time, if he’d tried to tell them both in other ways before he’d resorted to his schemes with the Jotnar. Had Loki’s words gone ignored for so long that he felt he’d had no recourse but to take drastic action to open Odin’s eyes to the faults of his oldest son?

“He said no again, I see,” his mother commented, watching as servants transferred the breakfast that Thor had set out every morning in his quarters onto a tray to take down to Loki’s cell. She walked into his room and took a seat in the vacant chair, reaching out to lay her hand over Thor’s, the touch a warm comfort after the sting of Loki’s rejection.

Thor nodded, but didn’t look up at her. “I don’t know what to do. I just want to talk to him somewhere private, but he keeps -”

“Have patience with him,” she said. “He’s still angry with us.”

“I’m angry with him, too,” Thor protested. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t - that he’s not still my -” He couldn’t quite get the word out yet. “Why is Loki supposed to be the only one who gets to sit and sulk when everyone made mistakes?”

That only earned him a shake of the head. “You’re welcome to go tell him that, but it’s not likely to get you very far.” She squeezed his hand. “Sweetheart, you’re about to turn his world upside down for the second time in a very few years. It’s going to be a shock to him - even more of a shock than when he learned about his birth.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Thor asked, raising his head. “Why didn’t you and Father ever tell us? It wouldn’t have made a difference to me, but Loki deserved to hear it from you.”

His mother didn’t answer him right away, and for a moment, he thought she was going to say it wasn’t his concern, that these were Loki’s questions to ask or that it was all in the past, like she had when he’d tried to talk to her about it after Loki had fallen. But then she sighed. “I know he did. And we should have. I wanted to, but your father said it would be best to keep it from him so he didn’t feel different, so he didn’t think we didn’t love him any less, and...” She bowed her head. “I didn’t argue. I thought that we were protecting him. If he knew, he might have wanted to go to Jotunheim, and there was nothing for him there.”

“But after everything Helblindi told me...” Thor shook his head and shoved his chair back, getting to his feet. “Have you asked Father again?”

“Yes, and he still refuses. Loki will serve out his sentence here on Asgard.”

“That sentence is for his entire life,” Thor said in a low voice. He knew there were many who believed that it should have been death, just as he knew that it was their mother who had begged for her son’s life, but he couldn’t see how thousands of years in the dungeon of Asgard was much kinder. “Mother, it’s -”

She held up her hand to stop whatever he might say. “Only the king of Asgard can commute a prisoner’s sentence,” she reminded him. “But one day, that will be you, my dear.”

One day. That was cold comfort for all the days that had already passed without Loki and all the days Thor would stay without him until he agreed to take the throne he didn’t want in order to free the brother he did want so very desperately. And even then, Thor knew there was no guarantee. “What will keep Father from ordering his execution to keep me from doing that as my first order?” he asked heavily. “He can’t think I’ll keep Loki imprisoned a second longer than I have to.”

“You give your father too little credit, sweetheart,” his mother said gently. “He loves both of you, and he takes no more pleasure in seeing Loki like this than I do. I truly believe that if Loki were to show real penitence for his crimes, if he would only seek forgiveness...”

“What? Father would welcome him back to the family with open arms and all would be forgiven?” Thor knew better than to hope for such things.

“You were returned to us,” she reminded him, and Thor summoned a smile as he turned to kiss her cheek and offered up the agreement he knew she wanted to hear. Her optimism and warmth were some of the things he loved most about his mother, but he thought that in this case, they were causing her to blind herself to the reality of the situation.

The truth was that he couldn’t see how Loki could ever find a place on Asgard again, and he already knew that he wouldn’t want a place without Loki. That left only the solution he’d proposed, the one his father had rejected outright: permanent exile on Midgard.

Once his mother left, Thor began to make his plans.


	4. Chapter 4

_I need to see you. It’s important_.

Two messages in one day. That _was_ unusual. Loki studied the note for a long minute before he set it aside and looked at the servant that waited for his reply. “Tell him... tell him not tonight.” It was enough of a departure from his usual curt refusal that he knew Thor would see it for the acceptance that it was. Loki just needed a little more time before he was ready to face Thor. But then, he always needed a little more time, and he was never really ready. He hadn’t been for centuries now, not since his mark had come in.

It had come late, so late that he’d begun to wonder if his markmate was on some other world, but one night he’d been woken by a blazing pain along his collarbone, just over his heart, and when he’d hurried over to the mirror, he’d been greeted with the golden text that had ruled his world since his earliest memories: Thor. Loki had hurried to cover it with every illusion spell he knew, layering them on one over the other to ensure that nobody else would ever see his mark. His mother and tutors would know he’d covered it, but hopefully they’d simply believe that he wanted to keep the mark private, something between him and his markmate alone.

Loki had spent the better part of the next century watching Thor, trying to see if he’d received his mark, and if he had, if it was Loki. When there were no signs after almost a hundred and fifty years, Loki began tossing needling comments at Thor, archly wondering why anyone that was favored with the name of the crown prince of Asgard wouldn’t rush to throw themselves at his feet. He never failed to get a rise out of Thor, knowing that he could always have his brother’s anger, if nothing else. And for many years, that had been enough.

Then he’d learned the truth about himself, and everything had changed once again. Loki had never been more grateful for his illusion spells and decision to keep quiet about his soulmark than he had when he’d discovered what he really was. He’d come back to Asgard fully expecting to die, and he knew that if Odin was aware that he bore Thor’s name, no amount of pleading on his mother’s part would have saved his head.

“I thought I’d sentenced you to prison, not house arrest in luxury quarters.”

Loki kept his face impassive as he looked at his - at Odin. “And I thought that you were my father and I was an Asgardian.” He allowed himself a brief moment to enjoy the rage building in Odin’s gaze before he said, “But I doubt you’re here to discuss our family dynamics, entertaining as that might be.”

“No.” Just that, the one word, and nothing more. Loki bit his tongue and refused to ask, refused to play his part and beg for more information, even if it meant Odin left without telling him anything more. Just when he believed that might be an end to the interview, Odin continued, “Jotunheim has requested that you be turned over to them.”

Jotunheim. Loki took a careful breath and nodded. “Well, that would solve your problem quite neatly, wouldn’t it?”

“I haven’t given them an answer yet,” Odin replied evenly.

“But we both know that you’re going to say yes.” Loki laughed, soft and bitter. “Come now, _Father_ , admit it - this wraps up all your loose ends in a nice, tidy bow. We both know you want me dead, but thanks to your promise to my dear mother, your hands are tied. Much better to let the monsters that birthed me see to disposing of me for you, isn’t it? So much tidier for everyone involved.”

Odin shook his head. “Do you have so little regard for life that you’ll throw your own away so easily? Or are you simply so determined to see me as a villain?”

“I haven’t heard you declare your determination to save my life yet,” Loki pointed out. “Or are you waiting for the final hour to descend on the plaza where my execution is to be held, only to be just a heartbeat too late? That _would_ be a tragic set of circumstances, worthy of one of the great tales. And to be sure, neither Mother nor Thor could fault you for my death then.”

“Tell me, then... why should your life be spared?” And Loki had the oddest sense that Odin was pleading with him to give him a good argument, almost as though - but that was foolish.

Loki raised one eyebrow. “According to you, I’m alive only through your grace to begin with, since I’d have died as an infant if you hadn’t picked me up. ‘My birthright was to die’, wasn’t that right?” He took no small amount of satisfaction in the way Odin flinched at having his words flung back in his face. “So if that’s the case, then perhaps you _should_ set the old wrong right and return me to Jotunheim. My death’s a thousand years or so late, but I doubt that really matters, in the grand scheme of things.”

“So be it, then.” Odin fixed him with a hard look. “In the name of my father, and his father before him, I, Odin Allfather, cast you out. You will return to the land of your birth, your fate to be decided by the people there. You are no longer my concern, for you are no longer of Asgard.”

Once he’d finished, Loki watched him walk away without so much as a backward glance. “I guess that answers the question of whether or not I was ever really his son,” he said idly to Fenris, who yipped in response. Scooping the puppy up, he took comfort in the warmth of the small body. “You’ll have to look after Thor when I’m gone,” he told him. “Will you do that for me?”

Fenris woofed and Loki smoothed a hand over his head, then set him back down. “I want to talk to Thor,” he called out, but nobody came to answer him. “Hello! I need to see Thor! Now!”


	5. Chapter 5

Thor stared at the visibly terrified servant in front of him. “What do you mean, ‘he’s not there’?”

The servant shifted from one foot to the other, then looked back down at the breakfast tray she carried. “He - he isn’t in his cell, Your Highness,” she whispered. “The guards said that Heimdall came for him last night.”

Heimdall. Had come for Loki. In the night. Thor did his best to suppress the panic that flared up at the thought and nodded. “Thank you. His, uh, his quarters... is everything still...?”

She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “His cell was bare, my lord.”

Of course. No need to keep his things if he wasn’t coming back for them. And when Heimdall came for a prisoner, it was common knowledge that they weren’t returning. Once she’d left, Thor washed and dressed in a daze, then started for the main hall, only to change his mind halfway there in favor of going to the stables instead. He didn’t bother to wait for his own horse, just took the first one that was ready, and rode for the Observatory.

Thor swung down from the horse and ran inside to find Heimdall seated on the steps, cleaning his sword with slow, methodical strokes, and his stomach turned. “What did you do?,” he demanded hoarsely.

Golden eyes turned towards him, Heimdall’s face, as always, impassive and unreadable. “What my king commanded,” he replied.

The words were like a physical blow. Thor staggered back, struggling to breathe. “Did he - was he... afraid?”

“No.” Heimdall sat his sword aside and got to his feet, then walked over to retrieve a black wolf puppy. “He asked that I keep him here for you. The rest has been -”

Thor couldn’t hear anymore. He turned and ran, unable to bear hearing the details of how they’d taken everything and what they’d done with them. As if he cared what had happened to his brother’s things when his brother was -

The ride back to the palace was a blur, despair and disbelief battling within him until he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing. When he returned, he summoned a servant and said, “Move everything in my brother’s quarters into mine. Now. I don’t care what you find or what else has been done, but everything that survives is mine by right. Anyone that argues with you, send them to me.”

With that order given, Thor went to look for his father. He wasn’t that surprised to find him in the garden with his mother. “You had no right to take him away from me,” he burst out.

“Thor, this wasn’t -” his mother began, but Thor wasn’t about to let her try to intercede yet again to cover his father’s crimes.

“He was _mine!_ ” Thor shifted his attention from his father to his mother. “Did you even tell him? Before he condemned Loki, did he know about it?”

She lowered her gaze and shook her head. “I told you I wouldn’t.”

“So you kept that promise while he broke his? While he took our Loki away?” Thor glared at both of them. “Find someone else for the throne, Father. The only reason I’d have agreed to take it would have been to get my markmate back, but you’ve just seen to it that that’ll never happen.”

He waited just long enough to see the realization sink in, to watch the horror spread over Odin’s face, and he didn’t bother to find out just what it was that brought his father such grief. Instead, he turned and stalked off, ignoring his mother as she called after him. She hadn’t acted to spare Loki’s life; Thor wouldn’t act to spare her heartbreak.

Thor went straight to his quarters, where a pitifully small bundle of clothes and books lay on top of his bed. He saw that his favorite bearskin coverlet had been returned to its place on the bed, along with the chair he’d sent down to Loki’s cell - all of his gifts put back in their place just as if they’d never been moved. As if Loki had never even existed. That seemed to be what Odin wanted, to wipe Loki out and have them all go back to their lives. But it wasn’t going to be possible, not for Thor.

Taking out a large pack, Thor put Loki’s belongings in the bottom. Next were many of his own clothes, along with gifts from Loki and his mother, some of his preferred weapons, and a few extra odds and ends. He rolled up enough furs to make a pallet and tied them at the bottom, thankful yet again for the spell he’d had Loki put on the pack long ago to allow it to hold more than it should and make it lighter in the carrying, then picked it up, swung it onto his shoulders, and set out for the stables once more.

After another, considerably less frantic, ride to the Observatory, Thor picked Fenris up and cuddled him, then looked over at Heimdall. “Open the Bifrost,” he demanded. “I’m leaving Asgard.”

Heimdall picked up his sword - the sword that had shed his brother’s blood - and slid it home, opening the Bifrost with a twist of his wrist. Thor nodded at him, strode forward and -

Found himself on Jotunheim?

“Heimdall, this wasn’t where I wanted to go!” But the Bifrost had already closed behind him, leaving him alone on the frozen world.

It was eerily reminiscent of his first visit, the knowledge that there were eyes around him but the inability to see the watchers. Then, as now, emotion had driven him here, and there was no small amount of fear rising as he thought about having to tell the king of Jotunheim that his brother was dead. “I am Thor, of - well, that’s not important. I come in peace.”

Three large forms stepped out of an ice cavern, each of them easily twice his size. They walked towards him, then one bowed and said, “Your Highness. We’ve been expecting you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Thor had been expecting to be taken to the throne room, or some kind of high council chamber, but instead, he was led into what he assumed was the palace. There were ice walls that appeared to be under construction - some thick enough that the light that slipped through them was dim and warped, others clear and shining like glass. It was oddly beautiful, this world locked in an eternal winter, and he felt a sharp pang of regret that not only had he failed to see it when he’d first come here, but he could never bring Loki with him, to show him the wonders he was beginning to think he’d only seen hinted at that lay here in Jotunheim.

His escort paused at the main door and requested that he allow Fenris to be taken to the kitchen to be fed and looked after. Thor hesitated, but did as they asked, then followed them up a long, curving staircase where they stopped before two other Frost Giants standing guard outside of a room. “He just arrived,” the leader of Thor’s small contingent said, and one of the guards bowed his head and stepped aside. The leader turned to address Thor. “Your Highness, Helblindi-King sends his greetings and hopes you will accept his offer of hospitality. He has had these quarters prepared for you; should you need anything, you have only to ask and we will try to supply it. His Majesty also asks that you join him for dinner at the high table later this evening.”

Something told Thor that His Majesty would be much less gracious after Thor had delivered the news of Odin’s execution of his brother, but for now, he bowed in return. “Please thank... Helblindi-King for me and tell him I will be happy to join him,” he replied, stumbling a little over the unfamiliar term. “And I’m sure the rooms will be very comfortable indeed.”

The escort nodded and one of the guards opened the door. Thor walked into the room, surprised to see just how warm and welcoming it was. He might almost have been back in his own quarters in Asgard - the bed, while larger than his own, was still sized for an Asgardian rather than a Jotun, and there was a fire already blazing in the hearth, where there were two chairs and -

Loki. Thor’s heart nearly stopped when his brother’s shade looked up from one of the chairs and gave him a sharp smile. “I wondered how long it would take you,” it said.

“Brother,” Thor greeted him, trying to keep his voice even. “I came to tell the king of Jotunheim -” He shook his head and corrected himself. “I came to tell your brother -” And that word felt wrong, when applied to somebody that wasn’t him.

The ghost before him laughed. “I’m very much afraid he won’t be hearing your message with pleasure,” it said. “In fact, if I were you, I’d turn around and go back to Asgard while I still could.”

“Asgard is no longer my home,” Thor said firmly. He glanced at the fire and the vacant chair, then licked his lips. “Brother, I -”

A pounding on the door interrupted him. “Odinson! The king summons you to his audience chamber!”

His brother’s shade smirked. “Oh, dear,” it commented. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

There was no arguing with the truth of that statement, so Thor didn’t waste time trying. Instead, he took a breath, squared his shoulders, and turned to answer the royal call. Before he walked out, he looked one last time at Loki’s ghost, trying to memorize its appearance, and smiled. “If I don’t return, I’ll see you soon enough in Valhalla,” he told it. “Wait for me, brother, and remember that I love you.”

He heard his name called out behind him, but didn’t look back as he followed the guard out, ready to face the king of Jotunheim and tell him of Asgard’s crimes.

“Odinson,” the king greeted him, his voice a dark rumble that echoed Laufey’s from Thor’s first visit. “I would have thought you, of all your people, to have the good sense to stay far away from this realm at this time.”

Thor went down to one knee and bowed his head, then looked up at the king. “Your Majesty, it is with deepest regret that I must inform you that my -”

“Your father,” the king cut in, and Thor didn’t bother to point out that he no longer claimed kinship to Odin. There would be time for that later, once he’d delivered his message. “Why has he sent you, little Ás? If he’s regretting his decision, it’s too late for that. Here on Jotunheim, we don’t abandon our kin as readily as you.” Blood-red eyes gleamed eerily in the dim light. “Surrendered by Asgard means just that, markmate or not.”

“Surrendered by Asgard?” Thor repeated, staring uncomprehendingly at Helblindi. “I don’t - I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I don’t understand.”

Helblindi scowled at him. “You can drop the pretense, Odinson. I know what your father assumed Loki’s fate would be, and the Allfather and I will be discussing that at the next summit, should I choose to attend it.”

“I’m not Odinson anymore,” Thor shot back. “And what about Loki’s fate? He was -” But he couldn’t get the words out. Saying them would make them real, truly real.

The king paused and studied him for a long minute. “Just where do you think your brother is, Asgardian?”

“They wouldn’t tell me what had become of his - of... him,” Thor said, realizing too late that he hadn’t even asked. Why hadn’t he bothered to try and collect his brother’s body? Surely the Jotun king would want him, would want to give him whatever funeral rites they possessed here! “I’m sorry.”

“Asgard is lucky indeed that my people keep a careful watch for the Bifrost,” Helblindi said, the abrupt subject change enough to make Thor frown. “While Loki would not have frozen in the time it would have taken him to find his own way to our gathering hall, I don’t think you would have been as fortunate.”

It took a few minutes for the king’s words to process, and when they did, Thor stared at him. “Loki... came here,” he repeated slowly.

A chuckle rumbled in Helblindi’s chest. “You saw him with your own eyes, Asgardian.”

Not his shade, then. Not a vengeful ghost sent to haunt him for his failure to claim his markmate. Relief and joy and a dozen other emotions surged through Thor in a rush that threatened to knock him over, but instead, he leapt to his feet and ran out of the room, his thoughts bent on only one thing, the only thing that had ever really meant anything to him: Loki.


	7. Chapter 7

After Thor was taken away for his audience, Loki had attempted to go back to reading, but once again, he’d ended up just staring at his book. It was a familiar position - sitting before an open book, his thoughts occupied with Thor rather than his reading material. And in its own way, it was comforting, the familiarity of it lending a touch of home to this very alien place. All the same, though, he hated how little time he’d had with Thor before Helblindi had summoned him. What had Thor meant, Asgard was no longer his home? And why had he looked at him like that, white and almost frightened when he’d first caught sight of him?

Giving up the pretense of reading, Loki set the book aside and got to his feet, briefly considering ringing for a servant before Thor’s return. If he knew his brother, (and he usually did), a small repast of meat and cheese would be welcome before the formal dinner that evening. Before he could summon anyone, however, the door was flung open and Thor burst into the room, rushing over to Loki and seizing him, hauling him into a crushing embrace.

“Thor...” Loki wheezed, but Thor didn’t seem to hear him.

“Brother,” he said, his voice a ragged shadow of its usual deep rumble.

Loki submitted to the clinch for several seconds before he began to try to wriggle free. When Thor only tightened his grasp, Loki tried, ineffectually, to shove him away. “Thor, this has gone on long enough,” he told him, trying to sound stern about it.

Thor just shook his head and burrowed in closer against him, like he was somehow trying to merge them into a single entity. “I waited too long,” he finally said. “I thought - they said Heimdall came for you and -”

 _Oh_. Well, that explained why he looked so stunned to see Loki sitting there when he’d come in. And why he was currently trying to drive every last bit of air out of Loki’s lungs. Loki sighed and decided that maybe, just this once, Thor could hold him as long as he wanted. “I tried to send for you,” he admitted quietly. “Before I... left, after Odin talked to me. I told them I wanted to see you, but they -”

“Father talked to you?” Thor demanded, releasing him and taking a step back. “He never said.”

Of course he hadn’t. Why would he tell Thor, his golden son, his favored child, his _heir_ , that he’d agreed to send the unwanted foundling back where it came from? Particularly when he’d assumed it was Loki’s death he sealed with the bargain. Indeed, Odin had probably congratulated himself for managing to achieve the resolution he wanted while keeping his own hands free of blood. Not that he’d ever hesitated to spill Jotun blood. “Like most of our conversations, it didn’t go well.”

Thor’s hand slid up to cup his neck and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Loki’s. “Brother,” he said again, closing his eyes for a moment. “And I swear, Loki, if you take this moment to say anything about not being my brother, I will, for all the love I bear you, knock you right through the nearest wall.”

The threat was so very like Thor, bluster and bluntness and a soul-shaking vulnerability, that Loki laughed softly. “No denials,” he assured Thor, raising his own hand to rest on Thor’s arm. He took a slow breath, savoring just having Thor so close after their long separation. “And I missed you too, preposterous as that may sound.”

“You took your time telling me,” Thor teased, squeezing Loki’s neck gently. He seemed in no hurry to move away, and for once, Loki wasn’t inclined to make him. “But you can make it up to me soon. I’m afraid I have need of that silver tongue of yours, brother.”

Loki shook his head, but he smiled. “Already? You’ve been here all of three hours, Thor!”

Thor’s hand fell away from his neck. “Forgive me, but when the _king of Jotunheim_ informed me that my brother was, in fact, alive and _not_ beheaded by Asgard’s executioner, I had more pressing concerns than making courtly addresses and waiting to be excused.” He turned a beseeching look on Loki, the same one that had never failed to convince Loki to creep down to the kitchens to steal them an extra helping of tarts or cast a spell of invisibility to allow them to sneak out into the city or any one of a thousand other bad ideas. “My only thought was to come find you as quickly as I could.”

How was he supposed to be at all indifferent to such words as those? Loki sighed and said, “Wait here.” He went to the door and opened it, then told one of the guards, “We would both of us beg an audience with Helblindi-King before dinner, at his gracious convenience.”

The guard grunted in response, so Loki closed the door and turned back to Thor. “Now, while we wait for that, why don’t you tell me exactly what you meant about not calling Asgard home anymore?”

His brother gave him a guileless look that Loki wasn’t accepting for one moment. “Exactly that.”

“Mmmm.” Loki folded his arms across his chest. “So where were you planning on staying, then?”

Thor looked sheepish. “I thought to go to Midgard,” he admitted. “When Heimdall sent me here, I believed he intended me to tell the king of your... fate, first.”

“My death, you mean,” Loki said lightly, then instantly regretted the words when he saw the look on Thor’s face. “Except that he sent you to me, so you really can’t be angry with him. Just like you can’t turn your back on Asgard.”

“Yes, I can.”

Loki shook his head. “You’re the crown prince, Thor. Even if you find somewhere else to call home for a while, eventually Asgard will need you and -”

“And they can burn, for all I care.” Thor’s features might as well have been made of stone. “They took you from me, Loki! You were _mine_. Fath - Odin knew, and he still took you away from me.”

“I was yours?” Loki repeated, not quite sure if he should be pleased or offended to have Thor lay claim to him so casually. He was about to say something arch about Thor classifying him with his weapons or furs, but the way his brother’s face went white, then pink, stopped him. Loki frowned as he went back over what Thor had just said, the way he was looking at him, and the mark on his chest started to burn, heating against his skin like it might try to sear its way through both magic and clothing. “Wait. What do you mean, ‘Odin knew’? Knew what?”

Thor stared at him for a long minute before he said quietly, “That you’re my markmate.”


	8. Chapter 8

The words had slipped out before he could stop them, like they could no longer bear to be contained. It wasn’t how Thor had wanted to tell him - he’d planned it all out, how he’d have Loki’s favorite foods at his table, how he’d talk to him while they ate, bringing up pleasant memories they shared, reminding Loki of all the years they’d spent together, inseparable, before he told Loki about the mark. But that would have been the easy way, and nothing with Loki was ever easy. So instead of a pleasant breakfast in Thor’s quarters, the truth had come out during a disagreement in what amounted to house arrest in a foreign land.

Loki was standing as though turned to stone, staring at him until Thor began to wish he’d scream or hit him, anything other than just _look_ at him like that. Finally he asked, “And you? How long have you known about this?”

“A few months.” Thor know Loki was doing the math, counting backwards to figure it out, but he didn’t make him ask. “When I was at the summit, I - I talked to Helblindi, and he told me.”

Loki’s eyes darkened, glittering like a snake’s, but his voice stayed calm. “And how did _he_ know?”

Thor reached back to sweep his hair forward, then turned around so Loki could see the mark. “I didn’t realize it might be Jotun until after we - until after our... trip here,” he said awkwardly, forcing himself to hold still even though he could _feel_ Loki moving closer. “But when I realized what it might be, I had the king read it for me.”

Fingers brushed over the markings and Thor shuddered, barely biting back a gasp. “This is my name?” Loki asked, tracing the lines like he was memorizing them.

For the first time since he’d been told what the mark said, Thor wished it was different. “No, it - it says ‘Brother’,” he said hoarsely.

“Brother,” Loki repeated, the word sharp and bitter. “Of course. It only makes sense that I’m defined in relation to you, even in this.”

HIs hand slid away from Thor’s neck and Thor turned around to see Loki rubbing at his chest, like something there hurt him. “It’s not about that,” Thor argued. “The king thought that was the first thing I called you when -”

“When Odin returned with his stolen treasures to show them off,” Loki finished, and Thor hated to see him thinking of himself in such a manner. He was so much more than some kind of war prize, some booty to be displayed in a conqueror’s hall. Why couldn’t he see that? Why didn’t he realize just how amazing he was? Why did it have to come down to what the stupid mark said?

“Loki, I don’t care what name the mark gives you. It’s _yours_ , and it means I’m -” Except that it didn’t, did it? Thor might wear Loki’s mark, but Loki didn’t wear his in return. He’d seen his brother’s body over the years, had seen him completely stripped in the bath, and there was no mark on his skin. And while Thor might not have been able to read his own mark, Loki would have had no such trouble. Thor drew in an unsteady breath. “It means I’m yours - if you want me.”

Loki’s face had settled back into that calm, dispassionate mask that Thor hated, but his eyes were fixed on Thor, glittering like a snake’s. “And if I don’t?”

Just the thought of that was worse than any cut he’d ever suffered from Loki’s knives. But there was really only one answer he could give to that question. “Then I’ll help you however I can here and seek shelter on Midgard once you’re settled. I won’t force you to accept me.”

Something imperceptible shifted behind his brother’s mask. “Thor, I -”  
  
But whatever Loki might have been about to say was cut off when the door was opened and one of the guards said, “Come with me, both of you. The king wants to speak with you.”

There was nothing to do but follow the guard to the same audience chamber Thor had run from just a short time ago. It had a slightly more welcoming air, largely due to the table along one wall that was filled with a variety of dishes. But before supper, there were some things Thor knew would need to be addressed. His very serious breach of etiquette first among them.

As soon as they were shown in and the guard retreated, Thor went to one knee before Helblindi, head bowed. “Your Majesty, please allow me to apologize for my abrupt departure,” he began, but a snort from the king cut him off.

“That will do, little Ás. I know Odin believed he was sending my kinsman to his death when he agreed to my request. To have his son be so concerned that he would forget himself in such a manner speaks much better for you than your sire.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Thor glanced over at Loki, then back at the king. “I owe your my brother’s life, and I will not forget that.”

Helblindi nodded, studying them both before he said, “A brother’s life is precious, indeed. Almost as precious as a markmate’s.” There was a shrewd gleam in those red eyes, and Thor knew well what the king was asking.

He nodded. “And when the two are one, that life is dearer than my own.”

“A high value,” Helblindi said quietly. “And I won’t say that it doesn’t sit well with me to have the heir to Asgard’s glory owe me such a price.”

Loki cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to redeem it, instead,” he suggested, and before Thor could tell him just how phenomenally stupid that idea was, he caught the gleam of blue light as Loki laid the Casket of Ancient Winters at the feet of the king of Jotunheim. “With deepest thanks for the lives of myself and my markmate.”

There was never any doubt about the king’s response. Thor watched him lean forward, eyes fastened on the Casket, and looked over at Loki. “Brother, what did you just do?”


	9. Chapter 9

“How do you have this?” Helblindi demanded, and Loki probably shouldn’t hold his suspicion against him, but he wanted to. On the one hand, anyone who dealt with Asgard should expect lies and strings attached to any offer, but on the other... well, apparently ‘kinsman’ didn’t really mean all that much to the Frost Giants.

Loki met his gaze evenly. “The Casket is the property of Asgard’s king, and whether anyone likes to remember it or not, I _did_ bear that title for a while. _Legitimately_.” He gave Thor a quelling look to ensure that his brother didn’t open his mouth and make things worse. “It’s not my fault if nobody thought to check for the Casket or ask for its return once my reign ended. But I assure you, it’s been in my possession, unquestioned, for well over the year and day. So it’s my property, which means I can do with it what I will.” He arched one eyebrow, waiting to hear either Helblindi or Thor object, but both stayed silent. “And I choose to use it to repay a debt.”

Helblindi looked from Loki to the Casket. “I haven’t seen it since I was a small child,” he said quietly. “But I remember the night it was taken from us.” Red eyes flicked up to meet Loki’s. “The same night you were.”

“One valuable artifact and one abandoned infant,” Loki replied, shrugging to show that he really didn’t need to hear, yet again, about his supposed ‘birthright’. Particularly not from one of the people that had put him out to die. “But rest assured, accepting the one doesn’t mean accepting the other. “

“Loki... it wasn’t -” But the king didn’t allow Thor to get more than a few words out.

“Who told you that you had been abandoned?” he demanded.

Loki didn’t bother to reply, since the answer to that should be obvious. There had only been one person who could have done so. “Odin,” the king growled. “Damn his eyes.” Then his attention shifted to Thor. “I thought you were going to tell him what you had learned. Or did you decide that he had no need for the knowledge?”

Thor shook his head. “I would have told him, but he refused to see me. And, forgive my presumption, Your Majesty, but I believed that the true tale was one he needed to hear from my own lips.”

Helblindi grunted and sat back. “Put the Casket away,” he directed Loki. “We will eat and I will tell you what the Asgardians have kept from you. And then we will discuss the price of your lives.”

There was no arguing with a royal command, so Loki nodded and sent the Casket back into the pocket of space he’d retrieved it from. The king rose and walked over to the long tables, picking up a plate and beginning to fill it. Once he returned, Loki urged Thor up and led him to the side, where they filled their own plates. “We don’t bother with formality for family meals here,” Helblindi said as they returned, and Loki arched an eyebrow at him.

“I wasn’t aware that I would be considered family enough for such an honor.”

“Kin doesn’t determine family here. But we have no need to put on airs for two little Asgardians.” Helblindi tore off a hunk of meat and ate it. “And you are, Asgardian, kinsman - you look like them, you talk like them, and you think like them.”

Loki glared at him. “I _was_ raised by them,” he pointed out, irritation overriding the manners he knew he should be using.

But apparently the king approved of the lack of etiquette, because he laughed and shoved another bite in his mouth. “You may yet have some promise. But I think before anything else, you should hear the true story of your birth - unless you’d rather to continue to believe the Allfather’s lies.”

“I want to hear it, even if Loki doesn’t,” Thor put in, tearing into some kind of roll. “All of it, not just the little bit you told me.” And perhaps Loki would have to come up with something nice to do for Thor, since it seemed his eagerness was all the king needed, because he nodded and sat back in his chair.

“The night the Asgardians came, I was but 10 winters old,” he began. “My mother was to present me with a new brother soon, and while I knew there was war with Asgard, it hadn’t touched me yet. Then the Bifrost touched down just outside the fortress, and the slaughter began. Any Jotun the Asgardians could find, they destroyed. Our mother took me to the birthing lair with him, as his pains had begun amid the panic and confusion.” He looked directly at Loki. “You were born a scant few hours later - early and small, but healthy. And powerful.”

Loki flinched, then scowled. “How could anyone know that? And why did you call your mother ‘him’?”

Helblindi laughed. “You met our mother, kinsman. Would you have insulted Laufey by calling him a woman?”

“Laufey?!?” Thor’s eyes looked like they were about to pop right out of his head. “Laufey was your -”

“Mother, yes.” And thankfully, Helblindi didn’t seem overly upset about their astonishment. “Our father was Farbauti, king before me. Laufey was his consort and regent after him, as I was not yet of age to assume the throne.”

Loki knew he probably mirrored Thor in his open astonishment, but he could hardly understand it. “Why wouldn’t Laufey have said anything?” he asked. “When I met him, he was...”

“Not himself,” Helblindi admitted with a sigh. “The Asgardians weren’t aware of it, but they killed both our parents that night. Our father died on the field of battle, protecting the fortress. When word came that the Asgardians were breaching the door, we knew we were lost. Our mother sent me with the guards through the underground caverns. That was the last I saw of him for several years. As for you... he never spoke of it.”

Of course he wouldn’t have. Loki’s birth was surrounded by evil omens - no wonder his kinsmen hadn’t wanted him. “So it may still be that I was abandoned, as I was told.”

Helblindi didn’t even bother to acknowledge his words. “You were powerful,” he said. “The midwife that attended your birth could feel it within hours, and mages are rare and valued by us. And yes, they’re small, but that’s not important. If we’d had a mage like you, with the ability to command the Casket...” He glanced off, possibilities and alternatives sitting unspoken and heavy among them. “But you weren’t abandoned. We don’t do that to infants, and we certainly wouldn’t leave a child to die in the temple, where the Casket, the ancestors, and the Norns could see.”

Horror had spread slowly over Thor’s features, and he looked worriedly over at Loki. “Then, when Odin took him...”

“He committed sacrilege of the highest order,” the king stated. “The first Jotun mage in several generations, placed in the temple for protection and stolen along with the Casket. Our mother... it was a great deal for him to bear, and I think - I think part of his mind broke under the strain.”

Loki couldn’t speak. He thought of Laufey - of his _mother_ \- and the way he’d been so utterly focused on killing Odin and how he’d wanted Odin to know who it was that dealt the final blow. Murderer and thief, he’d called Odin, right before he’d almost let them go. _You know not what your actions would unleash. I do._ Had he known who Loki was when he’d ordered him killed at their meeting? Would it have changed anything that happened if he had?

 _I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day through you._ But Loki still doubted that Odin had ever truly considered him for the throne of Asgard. That had always been meant for Thor. So what had the plan been, then? Did Odin know about their soulmarks? Had he intended to bring about that peace he wanted through a marriage? But then why raise them as brothers?

“Because that was what I called you,” Thor said in a low voice, and Loki realized that he’d asked his question aloud. “I wanted a brother so badly, had been begging for one, and when I saw you, all I knew was that you were _mine_ , so I assumed that meant you were my brother.”

Of course. And Odin and Frigga hadn’t corrected him, because their golden child had called him brother, and they could deny Thor nothing. “That doesn’t explain why your mark says ‘Brother’ and not my name,” he pointed out.

“You had no name among us when you were stolen,” Helblindi replied. “Had you remained here, you would have received your name in the temple at the completion of your first moon’s full cycle. The magic that creates the marks had nothing to call you, save that name by which your markmate first addressed you.”

“Brother,” Loki said softly. He had to admit that it made a strange kind of sense, and perhaps some part of Thor had known it, for hadn’t he always addressed Loki as such in their closest, most intimate moments? And hadn’t Loki always responded with the same title? It was the word that defined them both, so it was fitting that the universe had taken Thor’s first words to his markmate, to the nameless child Odin brought home, and engraved them on his skin.

“Brother,” Thor echoed, and Loki didn’t dare look at him. Not unless he wanted to see every last one of the defenses he’d spent years building crumble into dust. He’d already come _so close_ to telling Thor everything, and he couldn’t afford that. Not yet.

Enough sentiment. Much more and Loki may break in ways he’s not sure can be fixed. He took a careful breath and looked at the king. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” But the formal title seemed wrong, given the very personal nature of their conversation. “Kinsman,” he tried, and that seemed a little better. “I’m grateful to hear the truth of my origins, at last. And I would like to find a way to pay you for the life debt Thor and I both owe you.”

Helblindi chuckled and inclined his head. “Believe me, kinsman, I’m not about to turn down the return of the Casket. But you also owe recompense for your crimes against my realm.”

Damn. Loki wondered if royal blood would grant him a swift execution. He hoped so, but then he wasn’t exactly sure what Frost Giants considered swift. Still, he knew better than to let his fear show, so he simply nodded. “Whatever your people demand as my punishment, I will accept.”

“Loki, you can’t just offer something like that!”

“Be quiet, Thor,” he hissed. “We both know that Odin was ready to see me die when you brought me back, so it’s not like you can say you weren’t aware this was a possibility.”

“Bring forth the Casket,” Helblindi ordered him, and Loki did, but when he moved to set it down before the king, a raised hand stopped him. Loki swallowed hard, well aware of his changing form as the Casket ate away at his Asgardian self and forced him into the Jotun body he’d been born into. “What do you know about its powers?”

He shrugged. “Only that it was the source of Jotunheim’s power, that it can freeze any being it’s turned upon, and summon deep winter in the middle of spring.”

“Those are the least of its qualities. Any royal hand can wield it to bring the ice and cold, but in the hands of a mage - particularly a Jotun mage -” Helblindi leveled a sharp look on him. “It can restore much of what was lost to us, both in your attack and the ones before.”

“I may be a mage, but I have no idea how to do what you’re asking,” Loki protested. “I don’t know any Frost - I mean, Jotun magic.” And he doubted that his skill with illusion or hidden pathways would be of much use to the people here.

The king ignored him as though he hadn’t spoken. “Beginning tomorrow, you will use the Casket to rebuild the land of your birth. In two weeks’ time, we will restore the Casket to the temple and you will make your amends in full.”

It wasn’t a negotiation, and there was only one thing he could say in reply. “I will accept your most gracious offer.” And hope that, this time, he could manage to get Thor, if not himself, out of Jotunheim without bloodshed.


	10. Chapter 10

Thor caught sight of a glimmer of blue light out of the corner of his eye seconds before he went flying into a snowbank. Laughter broke out around him as he scrambled to his feet and wiped snow from his face. “Now, now, little Ás,” Ymirrin taunted good-naturedly. “I thought you were the mightiest warrior Asgard had to offer, but here you are, gaping like a child at the first glint of magic!”

“Screw you,” Thor shot back with a grin. He could see now why Stark tended to use that particular phrase so often. It was a handy retort to being called out when there was no argument to be made. He’d gotten caught once again trying to watch Loki, he knew it, as did all the others on the training grounds, and any attempt to deny it would be both laughable and a grave insult.

Thor had no idea why he found the sight of Loki as he went about the work of rebuilding the city so entrancing. He knew the Jotnar on the training ground thought his distraction was highly amusing, and he couldn’t argue the point, because all it took was a chance sighting of Loki’s seidr mingling with the otherworldly light of the Casket to turn him into a moonstruck idiot. His brother wouldn’t allow him to watch his workings, and Thor felt more than a little cheated by the exclusion, seeing as how every other soul on Jotunheim seemed to have stories to tell about how they’d gone to watch the Jotun mage that was breathing new life back into their world, while Thor, who carried Loki’s mark on his body, was forced to snatch what little glimpses he could steal. He felt like a boy, so desperate for the sight of the forbidden that he’d dare anything for a single, mouth-watering peek.

Loki wouldn’t give him a reason for his refusal to allow Thor’s presence, but then, Loki had rarely offered reasons for anything he did. As it was, he barely spoke to Thor, although he didn’t seem angry with him. It was more that he just... didn’t want Thor around him, like he tolerated Thor’s presence because, at the moment, he didn’t see a way to make him go away. Or maybe he thought that neither of them were allowed to leave until Loki’s task was complete. To be honest, Thor wasn’t entirely sure about that himself - not that it mattered, since he had no intention of going anywhere without Loki.

Either way, Loki spent his days rebuilding the city, only to return to the quarters he and Thor had been given, where he would eat, retrieve one of his books, and spend the evening reading before he curled up around Fenris to sleep. He would talk to Thor only when Thor spoke to him first, and he flatly refused to answer any questions about his work with the Casket or what he planned to do when he was finished and they left Jotunheim. Thor had suggested taking up residence with the Avengers on Midgard, seeking positions with Freyr’s court in Vanaheim, apprenticing themselves to the dwarves of Nidavellir, and becoming wandering adventurers, with each suggestion receiving the same raised eyebrow that offered nothing in return.

The city was nearing completion, its Jotun spires rising along with arches that were distinctly Asgardian, and the end result was, much like its creator, a unique blend of the two worlds. Thor thought both city and maker were beautiful, although he knew better than to say as much to Loki. Instead, he concentrated on his training, learning to defend himself against ice blades and superior size, while getting knocked on his ass more than he had since he’d first started learning to handle a sword. It was worth it, though, if only for the nods of recognition that had recently begun to greet him when he walked out among the Jotnar.

Of course, there were days he regretted ever setting foot on the training ground, usually when he’d been knocked ass over heels so often he felt like one giant bruise. Or when he’d gotten caught trying to sneak a look at Loki, like today. “Shall we call it a day, princeling? I’d hate to be the cause of any harm to those pretty features of yours.” Ymirrin clapped him on the shoulder, and Thor took one stumbling step forward in an effort to keep his feet.

“Whatever you might do, I guarantee you, I’ll still be better looking than you,” Thor replied with a grin, jostling Ymirrin with one elbow. He didn’t even manage to budge him, but it was the gesture that mattered, and the laughter of the Jotnar around them said that they all appreciated it as they broke up and headed away from the training ground in groups of three and four.

Thor washed up in his quarters and changed into fresh clothes, only to have one of the guards inform him that he and Loki would be dining with the king that night. He nodded and followed the guard to the reception room, where Loki and Helblindi were already seated and eating. Thor helped himself to a plate, then joined them at the table. “My thanks for the invitation, Your Majesty.”

“I summoned you here because the two weeks’ time will be up soon,” the king said, ignoring him like he hadn’t even spoken. “And you will both be expected to attend the restoration ceremony in the temple.”

“But we were already aware of that,” Loki said, looking evenly at Helblindi. “So there must be some other reason that you wished to speak to us.”

“It’s possible to be _too_ wise, little kinsman,” Helblindi told him, then sighed. “But you aren’t wrong.” He swiped his fingers through the gravy on his plate and sucked them clean. “There is no illusion allowed in the temple. All must enter as they are, laid bare before the ancestors.”

Thor froze, then forced himself to swallow. “When you say, ‘laid bare’,” he started.

Helblindi snorted. “Fear not, little Ás; your virtue is safe. None will demand that you strip naked and dance about for us.” He smirked, and in that moment, he looked very like Loki. “Or with us, much as I’m sure you’d enjoy the pastime.”

“But you will insist upon stripping me,” Loki stated quietly.

The king’s amusement vanished. “No magic save the Casket is allowed in the temple, kinsman. This has always been our way.”

Loki offered no response, and they finished their meal in silence. It wasn’t until they returned to their chamber that Loki looked at Thor and said, “You may as well know now, because you’ll see it for yourself come the ceremony.”

Thor frowned. “Know what?” he asked, but before the words were fully out of his mouth, Loki was changing before his eyes, green eyes becoming red, his skin slowly tinting blue, various lines etching themselves in his cheeks and on his forehead, creating a sort of circlet, almost like nature itself would crown him a king.

“Now you see me, brother,” Loki said, holding his arms out. “This is the monster whose mark you wear, who you would claim as a mate.”

Thor’s heart ached for his brother. He wished he could make Loki see that he didn’t care about the color of his skin, that he was _Loki_ no matter what he looked like, which made him dearer to Thor than his own self, but from the look on Loki’s face, mere words would never convince him.

Striding over to Loki, he seized him with his hand upon his neck and drew him in for a fierce, hungry kiss. “Have care how you speak of my markmate,” he said when he pulled back. “He is no monster, and I take grave offense at hearing any call him so.” Thor kissed him once more.

Loki pulled away from him and shook his head. “And what about those who call him a liar?” he spat. Before Thor could say anything, Loki stripped his tunic off, placed one hand upon his chest, and closed his eyes. Green light danced over his skin, and when he lowered his hand, Thor could see -

“My name,” he said dumbly, staring at the golden runes that lay just above Loki’s heart. “That’s -”

Loki nodded, and Thor glanced up at him, then back at his name. _His name_. Loki had his name, and - “How long?”

For a long moment, Loki didn’t answer, and then he said, “Just after we turned nineteen.”

“After we turned -” Thor thought he might be sick. Loki had known for _centuries_ , while Thor had wondered if he’d ever know what his mark said, let alone find the one being who bore the matching mark. And all the while, Loki had known. No, not only known - he’d taunted Thor for his lack of a markmate.

Snatching up his cloak, Thor strode towards the door. He had to leave, or risk seriously injuring his brother.

“Thor -” Loki began, but Thor shook his head.

“I can’t stay here with you now,” he bit out. Not without thinking of all the years he’d - no, the years _they’d_ lost, Years that could have been spent with his markmate by his side, years that _should_ have been spent with Loki, years they couldn’t ever get back. Wrenching the door open, Thor stalked out into the hall, intent on putting as much distance between himself and Loki as possible before he did something he would surely regret.


	11. Chapter 11

The low bellow of a horn sounded throughout the city, and Loki looked over at Thor. “It’s time to leave,:” he said quietly.

Thor nodded and set his book aside. He pulled his cloak on, straightened it, and glanced over at Loki. “It suits you, you know,” he stated.

Loki looked down at the... garment he’d been provided for the ceremony. “I feel naked,” he said with a grimace, running one hand self-consciously over the leather wrap that didn’t cover nearly enough of his still-alien blue skin.

He saw Thor’s eyes drop down to his chest, where the gold runes that spelled out his brother’s name blazed bright against Jotun blue. “Like I said - it suits you.”

It was the first time Thor had looked openly at his mark since it had been revealed, and Loki fought an urge to reach up to touch it, oddly self-conscious both about the mark and his own near-nudity. He’d spent the past few days immersed a little more thoroughly than strictly needed in his work, claiming that the two-day storm that had followed his argument with Thor had set him back, and if any of the others knew he wasn’t being entirely truthful, they hadn’t pointed it out. Instead, he’d been allowed to begin early, while Thor was still asleep, and work long until after he was usually done, returning to the palace only when he was _sure_ his brother would be in bed. It was a delicate dance, avoiding Thor without appearing to do so, one Loki knew wouldn’t be allowed to continue, but he’d taken full advantage of the brief respite while it lasted.

Another blast from a horn reminded him they needed to get going. Loki started towards the door, then paused and said, “You, uh, you look nice, too.”

Thor was wearing considerably more clothing than he was, but none of it was in any way simple. He’d put on his best court garments, the ones Frigga had ordered for their last trip to Vanaheim, and he shone like a crown prince. In contrast, Loki felt even more like a loathsome cuckoo of a creature, with his blue skin and leather wrap, but he reminded himself that that had been Odin’s doing, not Thor’s. Odin, who would never have dreamed of attending a Frost Giant ceremony, let alone honoring them by donning his finest to do so. If anything, Thor’s golden beauty and proud bearing were a credit to Frigga and not to the father who’d done his damnedest to keep either of them from ever learning the truth.

Thor didn’t acknowledge the compliment with more than a brief nod, but he followed Loki out the door and down the hall, a strong, silent presence at his back that gave him the courage he needed to walk out into the night wearing only a scrap of leather around his hips.

Outside, Jotunheim’s moon shone brightly, giving the snow and ice around them a light that was almost warm. Loki took a cautious step forward, amazed at how neither skin nor feet froze with the contact with the frigid air or ground, and when he heard Thor suck in a sharp breath, he smiled and took another step. They made their way towards the restored Temple, joined by other Frost Giants, all wearing the same kind of wrap as Loki, but nobody spoke as they filed into the large open space. Instead, they formed a circle about the large, empty stones that stood in the center of the space. Loki knew that the Casket belonged on one of them, and assumed the other was an altar for offerings.

He stared at the altar stone, trying to picture himself laid out on it, trying to imagine Odin standing over him, blood-drenched and fresh from battle, reaching down to steal a child that had been left in a holy place for protection. Had Odin known what he’d done? Had he realized what it meant that Loki was put there? Or had he, as he’d claimed, thought that Loki was abandoned? And in the end, did it really matter what he’d known or intended, or was it only his actions and their results that were important?

Before he could lose himself too deeply in his thoughts, Helblindi walked up to the stones. He was dressed as were all the others, although he wore a necklace that no other did, bone and amber glinting against his chest in the moonlight. His crown, Loki realized, or the Frost Giant equivalent - a symbol of his leadership, a way to set him aside, and he had to admit that it was much less ostentatious than Odin’s great golden throne and spear.

Helblindi set the Casket he carried atop the tall plinth that waited for it and turned to address the waiting throng of Frost Giants. “That which has been lost to us has been returned, and we come together at last to give thanks for it,” he said, and Loki tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine at the thought that the king might be including _him_ as one of those lost items. “For too long we have been denied our meetings here, in sight of the ancestors and Norns, so now, with their gifts among us once more, we rejoice and dedicate ourselves to them anew.

“Here in the light of the Casket of Ancient Winters, we gather to welcome our new arrivals and celebrate those that have come to be joined. We come together for renewal, to strengthen our bonds to the land and to each other, and we give thanks for the prosperity that we enjoy.”

A low, wordless hum rose up from throats all around them. As it died away, a large Frost Giant stepped forward and laid a naked, blue infant on the stone before the Casket. “I bring my child Thiazzi to be counted among us.”

“We recognize you,” the others around them said. “Welcome, Thiazzi.”

Two other children were presented in turn, these older than the infant, and Loki wondered if these were the only young ones to have been born since the Casket was taken, or if the others were all adults, and therefore had been given some other kind of ceremony. Surely these couldn’t be the only young born in well over a thousand years!

He did his best to ignore the part of his brain that whispered that these may have been the only young to survive both Jotunheim’s climate and his own destruction.

Once the children and their parents stepped back into the circle, two more Frost Giants walked out and came to stand before the Casket. “I come willing and free, with no encumbrance on my heart, to seek the blessing of our ancestors on me and my mate,” one said, reaching out to lay a hand on a particular set of lines on the other’s shoulder.

The other lay a hand on a different set of lines on the first Frost Giant’s forearm and repeated, “I come willing and free, with no encumbrance on my heart, to seek the blessing of our ancestors on me and my mate.”

A wedding. It was a Jotun wedding! And those lines must be their marks, the visible proof of their claim on each other. Loki watched with undisguised and open fascination as Helblindi extended his hand over the both of them and said, “Let none come before you, let no grievance grow large enough to part you, and from henceforth, be one in our eyes and in the sight of our ancestors.”

It was so simple - none of the trappings of rank or wealth that had accompanied the marriages Loki had seen. Just two beings, coming together, laying their hands on their marks, and saying they loved each other. And that was all it took, apparently, because the two moved off to the side, hands joined like they couldn’t bear to part, and another couple stepped forward.

There were a number of weddings performed, enough to make it seem more than possible that the couples had been waiting for the Casket’s return in order to wed. A thousand years, loving and quite likely living together, but unable to marry... it made his own struggles look like nothing more than childish fretting.

A hard elbow in his ribs jolted him out of his thoughts. “He wants you up there,” Thor hissed, jerking his head towards Helblindi.

Ah, yes. Time for his sentencing. Loki took a slow, careful breath, and nodded. “I’m sorry, brother,” he told Thor. Thor, who was beautiful and golden and now condemned to live the rest of his days without his mate.

He drew himself up tall and walked over to stand in front of Helblindi. The king stared down at him, then turned to his people. “I bring my kinsman Loki to be counted among us.”

“We recognize you,” the watching chorus echoed. “Welcome, Loki.”

Loki gaped up at Helblindi. That was - he was named, now? Why would they do that? Did they have some rule that he had to be counted among the Frost Giants before he could be sentenced? “Welcome, kinsman,” Helblindi said, laying one massive hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“I’m - this isn’t -” Loki stammered, and the king shook his head.

“The council has deemed your crimes repaid, by the Casket you have returned to us, the rebuilding you have done with it, and the years in captivity that you have already served.” A hint of a smile tugged at Helblindi’s lips. “But there is still one thing left to do.”

Thor walked up to stand across from him and reached out to lay his hand on Loki’s chest. “I come willing and free, with no encumbrance on my heart, to seek the blessing of the Jotun ancestors on me and my mate,” he said, pronouncing every word with a solemn care.

Loki’s mouth fell open. Thor was - he wanted to - “Come, brother, don’t keep me waiting,” Thor said quietly. “Unless you don’t wish to -”

Before he could finish the words, Loki’s hand shot out to curve around Thor’s neck. “I come willing and free, with no encumbrance on my heart, to seek the blessing of the Jotun ancestors on me and my mate,” he blurted out, hurrying to get the words out before Thor could come to his senses and realize just what he was doing.

Laughter rippled through the circle, Thor and Helblindi chuckling along with them, but Loki didn’t care. There was warmth in Thor’s eyes, love and acceptance there, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away, only distantly aware of Helblindi putting his hand out above them and saying the words that made it official, the words that made them married.

He could understand why those other couples had linked their hands now; as they turned to walk back to their places, Loki’s hand slid down to find Thor’s, needing the continued contact to reassure himself that this had all been real, that they were, indeed, married. And marriage performed anywhere was sacred - Odin himself couldn’t tear them apart now.

Around them, the ceremony continued, but Loki paid no attention to any of it. All he could feel was Thor’s hand in his, all he could hear were the words Thor had said to join them together, all he could see was Thor’s face before him. Distantly, he was aware of that same low hum rising from the throats of the Frost Giants, and he tried to add his own voice this time, but when the sound fell away, there was still Thor. Thor’s fingers twined with his, Thor’s eyes asking a silent question that Loki answered with a brief nod, and then Thor’s steps leading him forward, out of the Temple back to the palace and whatever wedding feast awaited them.


	12. Chapter 12

Thor folded the white snapsgarth fur up and stuffed it into the pack, then closed it up. “That’s the last of it,” he declared.

“We don’t have to leave, you know,” Loki pointed out, walking up behind him to lay a tentative hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve... enjoyed it here.”

Glancing over his shoulder at his brother, his husband, his _mate_ , Thor smiled. “I have.” The Jotnar had proven to be excellent hosts, able warriors and entertaining playmates, but he was ready to move on. And while he might not mind staying another few years, he knew Loki wasn’t ready for that. Not yet, anyway. “But it’s a big universe out there, with many places to enjoy. And we can always come back if we want to.”

Loki didn’t respond right away, and when Thor turned around, he saw his brother watching him with that same strange, wary expression he’d been wearing ever since their marriage. It was the look that said he was waiting for Thor to come to his senses and dropkick him off the nearest high place, and Thor _hated_ it. “It is a big universe,” he agreed. “Big enough that you could -”

“If you’re about to suggest going our separate ways - again, then let me remind you - again - that we’re still married and I’m not about to let my _husband_ go wandering off without me around to get him out of the trouble he’ll inevitably wind up finding himself neck-deep in,” Thor stated firmly.

His brother shrugged. “Forgive me for attempting to allow you a measure of freedom,” he said lightly, but Thor could read the relief behind his flippant words. “I merely thought you might wish to find a travel companion that wasn’t a -”

Thor’s fingers cut him off. “Whatever you’re about to call yourself, I should remind you about my taking offense at hearing any call my markmate less than complimentary names,” he warned Loki. Then he sighed. “I had hoped to be away from here before we had this conversation.” But Loki had always been one to push for answers, not content to wait for proper time or place, and well Thor knew it.

Loki’s shoulders stiffened, his head going back ever so slightly, as though bracing for a blow. “What conversation?”

“The one where I tell you that I’m still angry with you for hiding your mark, and I likely will be for some time,” Thor admitted. “And while I’m not going to -” He gestured, feeling heat climb his cheeks and set his ears to burning.

Now Loki’s expression shifted so he was smirking at Thor, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Consummate our holy union? Make ours a true marriage? Enjoy the bounty of my body? Or would you prefer the simple plain speech of the humans? I believe they’d just say that we aren’t going to fu-”

“Yes, that,” Thor said, hand once more firmly over Loki’s mouth. “And I won’t, not while I’m still mad at you.” He drew in an unsteady breath, trying to keep his mind on the conversation and not on the thoughts that Loki’s taunts had roused. “But I’m also not abandoning you and I’m not walking away from this, either. We’re going to figure it out.”

One eyebrow rose, and when Thor lowered his hand, Loki asked, “How?”

Thor shrugged. “I have no idea. But I want you with me, even when I’m furious enough to strangle you. So unless _you_ don’t want to do this, then we’ll give it time and we’ll work it out.”

He watched Loki closely, saw his throat move as he swallowed, and when he licked his lips, Thor nearly groaned with the wash of desire that threatened to bring him to his knees and make him forget all about his resolve not to touch Loki until they’d reached an understanding and his anger had cooled. “And if I don’t want to?”

At one point, those words would have sliced through Thor like a sword, threatening to cleave his heart in two without shedding a drop of blood. But he’d come to understand his brother a bit more, now, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Loki’s. “Then I will find my own place and set you free to do the same. And I will miss you with every day that passes and every breath I draw will carry the hope that you will return to me,” he told him. “But I want you by my side because you wish to be there, not because I command your presence.”

Loki drew in a sharp breath and his hand slid up to wrap around Thor’s neck, unconsciously mirroring Thor’s frequent gesture, fingers seeking out the mark beneath his hair. “You can’t stay away from Asgard forever,” he told him. “Even if you think you can, one day they’ll need you and you won’t be able to ignore that.”

“Neither of us will.” While Thor might try to deny it, he knew that Asgard was, ultimately, home for both of them. They could find other places to live, other people to love, but in the end, they were Asgardians at heart, and when Asgard needed them, they would both heed its call.

“Do you really think Odin and the others would accept me as your consort?”

Thor didn’t hesitate. “They will or they will find another to sit the throne once Odin is gone.” And if that was the council’s choice, Thor couldn’t say that he’d regret it. While he and Loki would always be there to aid Asgard, he really wasn’t sure that either of them truly wanted the burden of ruling.

Loki’s rueful smile told him that he’d guessed right. “So you’d have us linger on Midgard, helping out your little humans, until the day Asgard calls, then?”

“I’d have us find a place we wish to settle together,” Thor corrected him, laying his own hand on Loki’s chest, over his mark. And while he rather liked the idea of taking Loki to join the Avengers, of his friends coming to see just how amusing and brave and wonderful his brother was, he wouldn’t force Loki there, and he wouldn’t allow the humans to imprison him for the things his torturers had made him do. “It doesn’t matter to me where that is.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized his mistake. Loki’s eyes lit up and he pulled Thor in for a swift, hard kiss. “Midgard it is, then!” he declared. “Come, brother - pick up the pack, and let’s go! I can’t wait to tell your friends _all_ about our little adventure, here.”

Thor turned to get their pack, already dreading the look on the good Captain’s face when he heard that Thor had married his brother almost as much as he was the things Stark was sure to say about it. Wait. _Stark_. Stark and Loki. Loki and Stark, on the same planet, no longer at odds, free to collaborate and plot and - “Perhaps we should rethink Midgard,” he called out, as he hurried after his brother.

Only Loki’s laughter answered him, and despite himself, Thor smiled. Chaos, diplomatic disasters galore, battles and arguments and tricks all awaited him over the next few thousand years, and he couldn’t wait. Life with Loki would be many things - frustrating, ecstatic, infuriating, puzzling, erotic, tear-filled, hilarious, and awe-inspiring, for starters. But there was one thing it would never, ever be: dull.

Thor couldn’t wait to see what came next.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found rambling about Loki, Thor, Tony, The Winter Soldier, and many other things on Tumblr - feel free to join me [here!](https://darklingdawns.tumblr.com/)


End file.
